


Takes One To Know One

by neerdowellwolf



Series: I Know You Are, But [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Annoyed hand jobs, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neerdowellwolf/pseuds/neerdowellwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m not sure, Stiles, which one is it for you?” Stiles actually laughs at that. “Well, you caught me! I think my best friend is awesome and I’m totally into dudes.” Too late Stiles realizes he's raked his eyes down Isaac’s chest as he said that. He looks up at Isaac and notices he’s holding his breath and when did they get this close?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Takes One To Know One

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hey! It's my very first fic. Please let me know if there's something else you think should be tagged. 
> 
> Thanks to [claudine_v](http://archiveofourown.org/users/claudine_v/pseuds/claudine_v) for all the support and excellent opinions about all the sex Stiles and Isaac should be having and also for being the best.

“Yo, Scotty!” Stiles calls out, pulling the front door behind him and slinging his backpack into the corner of the entryway.

“Stiles,” Melissa says distractedly, digging through her purse as she rounds the corner.”What did we say about the doorbell?”

“That it’s polite to use it, because while I am like a son to you, I do not live in this house,” Stiles parrots proudly.” Melissa gapes at him, shaking her head with a familiar mixture of exasperation and fondness. “I think Scott’s in his room. I’m working the overnight, but there’s lasagna in the fridge,” she raises her voice, making herself heard upstairs, “and no pizza!”

Stiles smiles innocently at her as he turns to bound up the stairs two at a time. He reaches the top of the stairs as he hears the front door close. At the top of the landing he skids to a halt to avoid running into Isaac, who has just exited his bedroom (née the guest room, Stiles thinks bitterly.)

“Scott’s not here.” Stiles squints at him, because rude.

“Hello to you too. Nice to see you, Isaac.”

“Why do you care? You’re not here to see me.” Isaac leans against the frame of this door, crossing his arms. Stiles notices that under his slouchy sweater his white t-shirt is aggressively thin. Stiles cannot believe he notices this. Stupid traitorous brain. “I can’t imagine why with that attitude.”

“Sorry if my attitude,” Stiles can hear the quotation marks in his tone and it make him want to slap him. Or kiss him. Slap him or kiss him. Or both, slap him and kiss him. “isn’t appealing to you. You could always, and I’m just brainstorming here, leave.”

Stiles scrunches his face at him. “I was looking for Scott. I thought he was coming home after lacrosse.”

“Well, he didn’t.”

“I can see that.”

“And yet you’re still here.”

“Why don’t you just tell me where he is and then I can leave.”

“You know, if I wanted a question answered, I would probably just ask the question.” Stiles falters, mouth hanging open as he blinks at Isaac. “But that’s just me,” Isaac adds, smirking. He raises his hand and starts examining his nail beds. Stiles is seething now, caught between watching Isaac’s fingers and letting his rage boil over.

“Fine, you ginourmous, stunted man-baby. Where is Scott?” Stiles waves his hand, increasingly aware that while he is practically huffing and puffing, Isaac is still leaning nonchalantly in his doorway. Desire is worming its way through his gut and at some point he really needs to examine how his frustration and arousal seem to be increasingly entwined.

“I don’t know.” Isaac shrugs, the corners of his mouth lift briefly before his face is blank again.

“Oh my god!” Stiles erupts before clamping his mouth shut and erratically pursing his lips, willing himself to calm down. He has no idea why Isaac gets under his skin like this. It’s not like he’s jealous, there’s plenty of room in Scott’s life for both of them. Isaac doesn’t take up half the time Alison did and Stiles weathered that just fine. Stiles looks at Isaac, who’s raising his eyebrows at him and looking infinitely smug and he wants him to look half as frantic as he feels.

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t believe that. In fact I don’t think there’s a single second of any day that you don’t know exactly where Scott is.” Stiles know’s he’s being mean right now, but he can’t stop. Isaac is still looking bored, but he can see he’s tensed up. “So what’s the deal? Do you want to be him or be with him?”

“I’m not sure, Stiles, which one is it for you?” Stiles actually laughs at that. “Well, you caught me! I think my best friend is awesome and I’m totally into dudes.” Too late Stiles realizes he’s raked his eyes down Isaac’s chest as he said that. He looks up at Isaac and notices he’s holding his breath and when did they get this close?

Suddenly he’s being shoved backwards into the wall. Isaac’s hand is pressed firmly against his chest. Stiles looks up and oh fuck, his eyes are blue? “You’re the worst,” he breathes out. “Yeah, you too,” Isaac replies before swiftly closing the last remaining distance between them.

There’s no preamble to Isaac’s tongue being in his mouth. It’s just suddenly there and Stiles is wrapping his arms around his back, pulling him closer. The kiss is aggressive and desperate and Stiles hears the noises he’s making in the back of his throat and he can’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed, not with Isaac sliding his tongue across his and running his hands up and down his back.

“You’re shorter than I thought you were,” Isaac whispers into his ear, before pulling his earlobe into his mouth. Stiles whimpers and scratches his fingernails down the werewolf’s back. “Sorry we can’t all be cherubic Frankensteins.” Isaac chuckles and runs his hands down Stiles’ sides, grabbing his thighs and lifting them up. Stiles huffs indignantly as he wraps his legs around Isaac’s back. His head drops against the wall as Isaac sucks and licks his neck. He can’t bring himself to care about the hickey Isaac is probably etching into this skin, not when it feels this good, not when he can barely think straight.

“Come on, you pervert. There’s a bed right there, or do I affect you so much you already forgot where you are?” It’s Stiles turn to breath his words into Isaac’s ear and he smiles as he feels the werewolf buck his hips against him. Then they’re kissing again and Stiles is running his fingers through Isaac’s hair and it’s just as annoyingly soft as he thought it would be. Ugh, what a dick. Stiles realizes he’s not against the wall anymore. Isaac is carrying him into his room and kicking the door closed, never extricating his tongue from Stiles’ mouth and damn, if that doesn’t go right to his dick.

Isaac deposits Stiles unceremoniously on the edge of his bed and leans back to pull off his shirt, exposing the smooth expanse of chest. Stiles has seen him without a shirt on before, but he’s never really let himself look. There’s a porcelain quality to him that make words like adonis and greek god pop unbidden into his sex addled brain.

“If you don’t know where Scott is, aren’t you afraid he’ll come home?”

“He’s out with Kira. He said he’ll probably be home around 11.” Stiles’ face hardens, but Isaac just grins and leans over him, pushing him up and onto the bed. “You’re so easy to wind up,” Isaac says as he straddles Stiles’ hips and tugs the zipper of his hoodie down.

Isaac keeps kissing him as he takes his hoodie off, only stopping to lift his t-shirt over his head. Stiles can’t believe he let himself lose control of the situation like this, so he slides his hand around the back of Isaac’s neck and pulls him as he shimmies backwards up the bed. Isaac is already working the buttons on Stiles’ jeans and he lifts his hips as Isaac tugs them off. When both their pants are piled on the floor Issac slots their hips together and they’re finally touching everywhere. The heat where their skin touches feels incredible and Stiles gets lost in it for a while.

They’re a study in contrasts, while Isaac anchors his hands, one on Stiles’ neck, the other wrapped under his shoulder, Stiles’ hands are everywhere. He runs then up Isaac’s back, tangles them in his hair, desperately pulling him closer, craving more.

He wraps his leg around Issac’s and slides his hands down his back, palms flat, until he slips his fingers under the waistband of Isaac’s boxer briefs. His hands keep moving down his ass, and he squeezes, making Isaac grunt and pull back to look at him. Stiles widens his eyes and blinks up at him innocently. “You’re a menace.” Stiles just grins.

Isaac sits up and tugs Stiles’ boxers down his legs. He tosses them over his shoulder, not bothering to see they’ve landed on a framed picture of Scott McCall, which Stiles cannot wait to torture Isaac about later, because oh my god, why does he even have that? Where did it come from? There are so many questions bouncing around his head he apparently didn’t notice Isaac took his underwear off and is kneeling at the foot of the bed staring at Stiles with an unreadable look on this face.

Stiles looks at him for moment. His cock as hard as his own, longer and just a bit thicker. It curves slightly to the left and Stiles grins, because that’s always been kind of a thing for him. He pushes off the bed and kneels in front of Isaac. “What’s the matter, Issac, am I making you nervous?”

“Oh yeah, Stiles, like you’ve done this before.”

“I had no idea the virgin thing did it for you.” Stiles runs his hand down Isaac’s chest and wraps it around his cock. “Should I be blushing more?” He starts stroking it slowly, almost casually. He holds eye contact with Isaac, who’s trying to appear composed. “I can pretend this is my first time if that’s what you want.” He winks, smugness radiating off him in waves.

“Do you ever shut up?” Isaac pants.

“Make me.” Isaac’s grin is predatory as he pushes Stiles across the bed until his back hits the headboard. He crowds into his space, bracketing his hips between his knees. Their cocks brush together and both boys gasp at the contact. Stiles reaches and pulls Isaac towards him. This kiss is slower and deeper and soon Stiles is drowning in the sensation. His other hand grips into Isaac’s curls. He tugs and the werewolf grinds their hips together.

“I need… you need to...” Suddenly Isaac is gone and it leaves Stiles dazed, the fog of the moment starting to lift. He watches as Isaac leans over to his bedside table and pulls a bottle of lotion from the drawer. He pumps lotion into his hand, his legs gripping with the effort of leaning over. Stiles takes the moment to run his hands across Isaac’s abs, his skin even softer than he expected. Seriously, how is it that all the werewolves he knows are as smooth as harbor seals?

Isaac crowds back into his space, grinding their hips together. Their lips meet again, moving against each other lazily. Isaac is making these throaty little gasps and there’s no way he’s going to be satisfied until he’s heard the entire suite of Isaac Lahey sex noises.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by a jolt of cold wetness against his cock. “Whoops, I guess I forget to warm that up.” Stiles opens his mouth to retort, wipe that grin off his smug werewolf face, but then Isaac’s hand is wrapped around his cock and all that comes out is a long moan. “You’re such a dick,” he manages, finally looking up from where their cocks are sliding against each other in Isaac’s fist. His eyes immediately lock with Isaac’s, who must have been, fuck, staring at him? Up close Stiles finally understands why “impossibly blue” is a thing, because he can legitimately see himself get lost in those things.

“Don’t stop,” Stiles gasps, instantly castigating himself. Play it cool, Stilinski.

“I’ll only stop when you come so hard you actually stop talking.”

“Oh, ha ha. Very fun-hnnng.” Isaac laughs and drops his forehead to Stiles’, continuing the ministrations on the heads of their cocks that rendered Stiles non-verbal.

Stiles closes his eyes and gets lost in the sensation, draping his arm around Isaac’s neck to ground himself. With their foreheads pressed against each other and their cocks slick inside Isaac's hand, it’s alarmingly intimate. He wants to scratch at Isaac's back or twist his nipples, but instead he tilts his chin up and slots their lips together. The slide of their tongues mirrors the thrusts of their cocks and soon they’re moving against each other frantically. Stiles can feel the heat coiling inside him, but he can’t let himself come before Isaac, he’d never live it down. He starts thinking about how to level up his paladin when he feels Isaac’s hand start to speed up and decides to just let go.

They come in quick succession, Stiles first (whatever), Isaac following quickly with a lupine whine. They slump against each other, breathing heavily. Isaac tilts his head and whispers against Stiles’ ear, “Was that helpful enough for you?”

“Shut up, you ridiculous Nairwolf.” Stiles says, playfully shoving Isaac off his lap. “I’m going to leave in a second, I just gotta…” he gestures vaguely around the room. Isaac shrugs and gets up, grabbing a towel off the floor on his way out the door. Stiles doesn’t hesitate to scramble around the room to locate his clothes. Isaac is still in the shower when he slips out. He’s not sure what the protocol for angry hand jobs with your best friend’s friend who you kind of hate is, but he thinks sneaking out is totally allowed.

He’s closing the front door behind him, post-coital awkwardness still clinging to his skin like glitter, when he comes face to face with Greenberg in his Domino’s uniform. Stiles grins at him.

Isaac gets out of the shower and reaches for his phone to check the pizza tracker. Instead he sees he has a SnapChat from Stiles. He opens it to find a picture of Stiles in his jeep, grinning around a slice of pizza. The caption reads, “VERY HELPFUL.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, you guys, something about these two assholes just really speaks to me.


End file.
